"Did you." Katy's eyes narrowed again.
"I guess we might as well tell you." Ava sent a tentative glance my way.
I nodded encouragingly.
"We found out that Bill Buckley was blackmailing one of his former clients."
If Katy was surprised, she didn't show it, her face wearing a hard emotionless expression that I could well imagine she'd spent months in prison cultivating.
"He had pictures of this client," Ava went on. "Doing something…well, something he'd rather the public didn't see."
Katy's poker face broke just long enough to smirk. "I can only imagine."
"Anyway, Buckley was blackmailing the client with these photos." Ava paused, giving weight to her next statement. "And we also found pictures of you among Buckley's things."
"Me?" Katy frowned. "Can't imagine why."
"They were of you and a customer," I jumped in. "Here at your shop."
Katy's gaze slowly went from Ava to me. "And?"
I pursed my lips. "And we were wondering…Katy, was Buckley blackmailing you too?"
She scoffed. "Over what? Selling cookies?"
She had a point. Nothing in the photo had appeared untoward.
"Was it something about your past? About your escort business?"
"I told you, that all came out. I pled guilty. It's public record, and I paid my debt to society."
"Most of it," Ava mumbled.
Katy shot her a look.
"Well, you were sentenced to four years," Ava reasoned.
"Was he threatening to hurt your new business?" I fished. "Warning that he'd tell your customers what you'd done in San Francisco?"
"The only thing hurting my business right now is a couple of idiots with false accusations scaring off my customers," she said hotly.
I looked around. I hadn't seen a single customer.
"If he was trying to blackmail you, you're the victim here," Ava said, making her voice sound sympathetic.
But Katy just scoffed again. "Gee, thanks for the legal lesson, blondie."
"Was it something about your parole?" I asked, not ready to give up yet. "Did Buckley threaten to tell your parole officer you'd violated it somehow?"
"That's it!" Katy said, her voice rising with anger. "I've had enough of you two. Get out." She pointed an arm toward the glass doors.
"Look, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything—" I backpedaled.
But she didn't let me finish, stalking around the counter, still pointing at the door. "Out! I don't ever want to see you two in here again. Got it? Now get out!"
Ava and I quickly got out. What else could we do? Plus, I could see the hardened criminal coming out in her, and I had no desire to be shanked in a cookie shop. Even once we'd scurried out the door and were crossing the parking lot in the warm sunshine amidst the throng of shoppers filtering in and out of the CVS, I still had goosebumps at how threatening she'd looked.
"Is she watching us?" Ava whispered, clearly mirroring my thoughts.
I dared to glanced back at the shop window. Luckily, no sign of Katy Kline shooting death glares at us.
I shook my head. "She must have gone back into the kitchen," I said as we reached Ava's car.
She quickly unlocked it, and we slipped inside.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, collapsing backward on the headrest.
"Okay, so what do we think?" Ava asked. "Was Buckley blackmailing Katy or not?"
I shrugged. "Hard to say. She did get very defensive." I paused. "But then again, an innocent person might get defensive too."
Ava pursed her lips as we both stared at the benign looking storefront. "The question is, what did he have on her?"
"I don't know." I shook my head, watching people walk past the cookie shop. No one went in. No one even gave it a second glance, really. "Honestly, whatever Buckley had on her, I can't imagine it hurting her business more than it's already hurting now."
"What do you mean?" Ava asked.
"I mean, I haven't seen a single customer go in there."
She frowned. "It does seem empty. But didn't she say most of her business was delivery?"
"Right." I glanced at the store again. "I wonder…"
"What?" Ava asked, pulling her lipstick out and touching up in the rearview mirror.
"What about her delivery guy. Derek. Do you think her nephew might know if Buckley was threatening her?"
Ava cocked an eyebrow at me. "Maybe. I mean, he works at the shop, so there's a good possibility he might have at least seen Buckley. Or would know if the two had been in contact." She glanced back at the shop. "Of course getting him alone to talk to us would be the trick."
"Actually, we know exactly where he'll be this afternoon," I told her, feeling the grin in my voice.
Ava's eyes lit up as she turned them on me. "Delivering cookies to your mom!"
* * *
Half an hour later Ava and I pulled up to Sonoma Acres and parked in the small visitor lot before giving our names to the receptionist in the lobby. She logged us in and gave us each a visitor tag to stick on our shirts before we made our way down the hallway of the east wing.
"Knock, knock," I said, actually saying the words as I did, in fact, knock on the door to my mom's private room.
I heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by my mom's voice. "Emmy, is that you?" A second later the door opened to reveal her confused features.
"Hi, Mom," I said, coming in for a hug.
"Hi, honey." She hugged me back before turning to Ava. "Ava, nice to see you too." She paused, the frown of confusion still on her face. "Did you tell me you were coming today?"
"No," I assured her. "This wasn't pre-planned."
She looked relieved at the fact she hadn't forgotten something else. "Oh good. Well, what a nice surprise. Come on in." She gestured to a pair of chairs by the window. I noticed one held an open paperback novel, facedown as if we'd interrupted her reading. "Are you here about the case?" she asked, moving the book to a side table and lowering herself into the chair.
Ava opened her mouth to answer, but I shot her a look that silenced her.
"Uh, case, Mom?" I asked. I hadn't discussed anything about Buckley with her, and as far as I knew, she hadn't heard the news yet.
"The thefts." She looked from me to Ava. "Here at the Acres. You did promise you'd discuss it with your detective."
"Thefts?" Ava gave me a raised eyebrow.
"Right. Yes, I did promise," I said. "And I did discuss it with him."
"You didn't discuss it with me," Ava chided, giving me an amused grin as she sat in the other chair.
"There's been a rash of thefts here," Mom explained to Ava. "Everyone is on edge."
"Do the staff know?" Ava asked.
I nodded. "They do. And I'd hardly call it a rash of thefts."
Mom and I quickly filled Ava in on the missing photo, the pillow, and Mrs. Pettigrew the stuffed cat. When we were done, Ava was barely containing her laughter.
"And you said Grant is on the case?" Ava said, amusement twinkling in her eyes at the thought.
I sighed. "I said I discussed it with him."
"Well, what did he say?" Mom asked.
"He said he'd look into it."
Mom smiled and looked so relieved that I didn't have the heart to tell her Grant thought the "burglar" was about as nefarious as I did.
"But he's really busy right now," I hedged. "On another case. It could be a bit until he can investigate."
Mom nodded. "Sure. I understand."
"So…what do you think they did with the cat?" Ava was still grinning. "The thief."
Mom shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Maybe they're just a kleptomaniac. Can't help what they steal."
Actually, that wasn't an altogether terrible theory. I made a mental note to ask the staff if anyone suffering from that affliction was among the residents.
I was about to say as much, when I was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Ava p
erked up and shot me a knowing look.
"I don't know who that could be," Mom said, getting up.
I knew exactly who it could be, but I didn't have a chance to tell her before she crossed the small room and opened her door again.
"Good afternoon! I have a delivery here from Katy's Cookies for a Ms. Laura Oak," Derek the Delivery Guy said, his white teeth gleaming in his tanned features as he held up the gift basket I'd picked out the day before.
"Wow, for me?" Mom asked.
"I guess so." Derek handed the basket to her.
"Who is it from?" Mom asked, turning it over to look for a tag.
I cleared my throat loudly. "Surprise!" I said, feeling slightly guilty that there were some ulterior motives behind the gift.
"You did this?" Mom asked. "What's the occasion?" I could see that small fear in her eyes again that she'd forgotten something important.
"No occasion," I quickly said. "Just…I saw this and thought of you."
"That's what the card says," Derek added with a smile. "Thinking of You."
"Well, aren't you the best daughter in the world." Mom pulled the cute little teddy bear out of the basket, giving him a loving once-over.
"I hope you enjoy the cookies," Derek said and turned to go.
"Uh, wait," Ava said, jumping up from her chair.
Derek paused, eyes going beyond Mom to take in Ava for the first time.
"Uh, you're Katy's nephew, right?" she asked.
"That's right." His face broke out into a slow smile of recognition. "Didn't I see you at the shop yesterday?"
Ava gave him a flirty smile. "You sure did."
"Well, nice to see you again," he said, infusing the words with warmth as his gaze gave her a slow up and down, lingering just a little bit long on the short hemline of her denim skirt.
"Same," Ava said. "Do you have a minute?"
"I guess." He shrugged. "Was there something else?"
"Yyyyyyes." Ava nodded slowly, and I could see her trying to come up with a good cover story of why we'd be interrogating him about his aunt. "We were hoping to get a little more from you."
Something flashed behind his eyes, and he cocked his head to the side. "Wait, this was a regular delivery right?"
"Regular delivery?" I asked.
"I mean, usually Katy marks the basket if it's a special order." His eyes went from Ava to me to Mom. And back to Ava. "Did you pay for a special order?"
Something about the way he was looking at her suddenly had my mental wheels churning.
"What do you mean by special order?" I asked.
"Well, just…I mean…" His eyes darted from one to the other of us again. "Did you just order cookies?"
And suddenly it clicked. Why there were no customers in the cookie shop. Why Katy was so defensive. What Buckley had been blackmailing Katy over…
"Sex."
All three pairs of eyes spun my way.
"You're talking about sex, aren't you?" I asked the delivery guy.
Derek's mouth curved into a slow grin again. "So you didn't just order cookies. This was supposed to be a special delivery."
Mom's jaw dropped open. "You ordered me sex? With him?"
"No!" I shook my head. "No, we just ordered you cookies, Mom."
"Then who ordered me?" Derek asked, taking a step toward Ava.
"No one," I said emphatically.
It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw disappointment momentarily cross Ava's features before she shook her head. "She's right. We just ordered cookies. But," she added, "that's not what most of Katy's customers order, is it?"
Derek still looked mildly confused, but he shook his head. "Look, I'm not supposed to talk about this to anyone. Katy could get in a lot of trouble."
"Again," Ava mumbled.
"We're not looking to make any trouble for Katy," I assured him. That is, as long as she wasn't a murderer. "But someone was trying to make trouble for her, wasn't he?"
Derek blew out a big breath. "So you know about that guy, too, huh?"
"What guy?" Mom asked, clutching the teddy bear to her chest, her gaze whipping from one to another of us. "What's going on here?"
"He's a gigolo," I explained, pointing at Derek. "He works for Katy Kline, who went to prison for running a female escort service out of her brother's butcher shop."
"And now," Ava added, picking up the narrative, "apparently, she's running a male escort service out of her new cookie shop."
Derek gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged. "A guy's gotta make a living."
Mom snorted. "Please. You're preying on lonely women."
"I don't prey!" he defended. "They come to Katy looking for some companionship. I'm a good listener. Women love that. They're willing to pay for it."
Like the woman we'd seen in the photo. It suddenly made sense. Buckley had taken a snapshot of the woman paying Katy for Derek's services.
"How much?" I asked.
"Huh?"
"How much did they pay Katy for your listening skills?"
He shrugged. "A grand per delivery. Sometimes more, depending on what kind of basket they ordered."
"Whoa." Ava gave Derek an up and down of her own.
He grinned, showing of those white teeth again. "What can I say—I'm a really good listener."
"I'll bet," Ava mumbled, and I had a bad feeling she was contemplating a cookie basket.
"What about Buckley?" I asked, pulling us back on track.
He frowned. "Who?"
"The guy who you said was making trouble for Katy," I supplied.
"Oh. Yeah, I dunno the guy's name. But Katy said she knew him from San Francisco."
"And he figured out her cookie shop was just a front just like the butcher shop?" Ava guessed.
"I don't know what he figured out, but I know I saw him in the shop arguing with Katy."
"When was this?"
"A few days ago. Like, maybe Friday."
The day Buckley had died. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. "What did they argue about?"
But Derek shook his head. "I didn't really hear. I just came in as the guy was leaving, but I could tell they'd had it out. Katy was practically fuming."
"Did she say anything?" Ava pressed.
"Just that I should keep my mouth shut about the whole thing." He looked from Ava to me. "You won't tell her I talked to you will you?"
Ava shook her head, and I could see her taking pity on him. Either that or still thinking about his listening skills.
Derek turned his imploring eyes my way. "And you won't tell your boyfriend, right?"
That hair on the back of my neck stood at attention again.
"My boyfriend?" I asked slowly.
"The cop," Derek supplied. "Katy said you were dating some detective or something."
I lifted my eyes to meet Ava's. I hadn't mentioned Grant to Katy. She'd clearly been looking into us and knew a whole lot more than she'd let on.
And a lot more than I felt comfortable with, considering she was a convicted felon and possible murderer.
"Look, I gotta go," Derek said, standing. "If this isn't my special delivery, I'm gonna be running late." He paused, pulling something from his pocket and handing it to Ava. "My card. You know. In case you want delivery sometime." He gave her a wink of his bright blue eyes.
Ava blinked at him, but before she could respond, he'd already turned and was walking out the door.
"Did I just get hit on by a gigolo?" Ava turned to me. "Or do I look lonely enough that I'd pay for it?"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time we'd left Mom with her cookies and at least a brief explanation of who Buckley was and what Katy Kline had to do with all of it, it was dark and we only had an hour before David's gallery showing. Ava dropped me back off at Oak Valley to get ready before heading home to do the same and promising to meet me at the gallery.
Since I'd abused my little black dress so horribly already the night before, I was short o
n dressy outfits. I opted for some skinny black jeans that, when paired with a white silk shirt, looked upscale enough that I could zhoosh it up with some jewelry. I draped a couple of silver chains around my neck, just above the open collar of the shirt, and went for long, dangling earrings that reminded me of a silver waterfall as they hung from my ears. A couple of silver cuff bracelets completed the look, along with some spiky black heels. While it wasn't evening wear, it was bordering on artsy, so I figured it would pass muster for the occasion. Besides, I didn't want to upstage the artist, right?
I was already running late by the time I parked in the pay lot next to the Groudin Gallery in downtown Sonoma. After finding an empty space near the back, I locked my Jeep up and click-clacked in my three inch heels to the gallery's front doors. I steeled myself against David's chiding at not quite being there at six sharp, but as I pulled open the glass doors and entered, I realized neither of us had needed to worry. The room was packed. Art lovers in dark suits and cocktail dresses crowded elbow to elbow, chatting animatedly about David's work, laughing as they sipped from champagne glasses, hopefully feeling fast and loose with their credit cards.
The gallery was a maze of white walls, providing lots of space for hanging art, and as I navigated them, I spied Ava right away, her floor length white gown hard to miss among the sea of subdued colors. With a slit up one side and pair of white sandals dressing it down just enough to feel boho chic, she looked like a Grecian goddess. Especially with the way she'd braided her hair and pinned it into a halo just above a pair of slim gold hoop earrings. She stood next to David with a glass of champagne in one hand. She waved to me with her free one when she spotted me.
I waved back, making my way toward the pair.
"Wow, this is a great turnout," I said as I approached.
David shrugged modestly. "It's not bad." He glanced down at my jeans. "You look nice."
"The LBD was in the wash," I defended.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I said it was nice."
"It feels casual," I said, glancing around at the other gowns and cocktail dresses. Even David was in a pair of slacks that night, paired with a white button down shirt and black sport coat. He looked practically grown up, even if the shirt was sans tie and opened at the collar.
Killer Among the Vines (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 7) Page 16
